fallen

if the minds of men where of brass, bronze, and steel mine would be glowing red hot. come warm your hands around my sentiment.

[whistling-dixon]

I’m not saying you would lie to me,

but if you did I would not know.

I would drink your voice like wine.

Drunk on your delicate choice of words

whose sweetness makes it go down

all too easy.

[whistling-dixon]

Love is like coffee.

I once relished the flavor;

now I need sugar.

[whistling-dixon]

You didn’t break my heart.

Tenderly you gave it back to me.

You laid it to rest at the foot of our bed

like you would a child

who feel asleep in the car.

You still leave flowers

like you would at a grave.

and I hear you still speak of me

In soft, kind ways that burn my ears,

but when I reach for you

I am met with only the warmth

you left under the covers.

[whistling-dixon]

If all the thoughts have been had.

All the prose, and the sounds,

and the rhythms explored.

Would you still not sing, and dance,

and write, and rhyme

as if the newest bud was worth less

than the first rose.

[whistling-dixon]

Like a pack of dogs

in the body of a man,

ravenous for love.

[whistling-dixon]

We cannot be close.

My love is hot, ill-tempered

We would not survive.

[whistling-dixon]

I can’t find the time

to marvel all of the things

That so deserve it.

[whistling-dixon]

It’s easier to speak in prose and metaphor.

I could never tell you

I would do anything for you,

but to tell you “I would boil oceans

and darken the skies for your sake”

rolls right of my tongue easier than

all the white lies that would

take its place.

[whistling-dixon]

I want for things

far too delicate

for the world

I find myself in.

[whistling-dixon]

I did not yet know

that I hated you enough

to destroy the world.

[whistling-dixon]

You don’t have to die to haunt someone.

So know there are ghosts among us.

[whistling-dixon]

Please, do not worry.

It’s glasses nature to break.

Beauty is fragile.

[whistling-dixon]

You can’t live with your mistakes…

So you fell in love with them

[whistling-dixon]

I don’t want you

wrapped around my finger.

I want to wear you

like Hercules did the lion.

[whistling-dixon]

While I jump to conclusions

you fall out of love.

I tripped on my words

and broke all our promises

[whistling-dixon]

The flame petered out.

There was no blaze of glory,

just a puff of smoke.

[whistling-dixon]

I thought you perfect.

Maybe that was wrong of me,

but you still hurt me